


miss americana & the heartbreak prince

by vibingintheinbetween



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mild Language, Reader-Insert, Songfic, Super Mild, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi Friendship, Tsukishima Kei Being an Asshole, Tsukishima Kei Likes Dinosaurs, kind of, tags r hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibingintheinbetween/pseuds/vibingintheinbetween
Summary: “Pathetic.”“Jerk.”The two of you rolled your eyes at the same time. Though, you were smiling. You knew he was, too.Your eyes met, gazes locking into place. It couldn’t have lasted for more than a moment, but you realized that yes, you had missed him dearly.(You found yourself admiring the golden-brown of his irises, as if realizing for the first time how pretty they actually were.)(What did he think of your eyes?)—Finally in Japan after years abroad, you’re glad to be back in the comfort of familiar places, things, and people. People like Kei. If only you were as familiar with him as you used to be. You just wish things could go back to the way they were before you left.(Kei is honestly glad to see you again after all these years. Not that he’d tell you that. He just wishes things could go back to the way they were before you left.)
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Reader
Comments: 29
Kudos: 75





	1. it’s you and me

_ “Y/n,” your mother called, “he’s on the phone!” _

_ You jumped from the couch to the nearest landline, smushing the receiver into the side of your face.  _

_ “Kei!” _

—

You bowed as the door opened in front of you.

“Mrs. Tsukishima, my parents-”’ you started, but were cut off when the woman quickly wrapped you in a tight embrace. 

“Y/n! It’s so good to see you again! We’ve missed you and your parents dearly,” she said, and you found yourself returning the hug tightly, because you’d missed the Tsukishimas, too.

You both pulled back.

“Look how much you’ve grown!” 

She looked you up and down as you blushed, stammering that you really hadn't grown  _ that _ much. But soon her eyes darted around you, confused. 

“My parents’ll be a little late,” you explained, continuing what you had tried to say earlier. “There was some trouble with the movers and our new furniture. They’ll be here as soon as they sort it all out, but they sent me ahead to tell you.”

She nodded in understanding and ushered you through her door. 

“That’s alright - we’re a little incomplete as well tonight I’m afraid,” the blonde said as you removed your shoes before stepping onto the polished wooden floor. 

“As you know Akiteru’s off at college, though he should be visiting sometime soon. But Kei is here! He should be in the dining room setting up.”

You both came to a stop in the hallway, and Mrs. Tsukishima added before you could even offer, “And don’t worry about helping me in the kitchen; my husband’s home so I’ve got him working with me there. Go say hi to Kei, I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

You nodded and bowed slightly, making your way to the dining room in the house that, you were glad to note, you still had memorized like the back of your hand.

(You were admittedly a little nervous. Had he changed much? His mother was the same as always, but that didn’t comfort you. Thinking about it, Kei had been a little shit when you’d left. What had he grown into?)

You turned a corner and stopped in the doorway, peering around the room to try to spot your childhood friend. 

“Kei?”

The table was all set, cutlery and plates gleaming, but no sign of him. You didn’t linger long, setting off to his room in search of him, like the way you used to whenever you used to visit. You passed Akiteru’s room, a bit disappointed that he wasn’t coming to greet you and your family again after not seeing each other for so long, but you quickly moved past his door and moved onto Kei’s. You stopped in front of it, reaching a hand up to knock when you noticed it was slightly ajar. You didn’t even think twice as you peeked through the small space between the door and its frame.

You got a view of his desk, which was neatly organized but littered here and there with dinosaur trinkets, clearly he hadn’t lost his affection toward the extinct species (being honest, you’d been a little worried he’d changed a lot in the years you were gone, so the familiar sight was a welcome and comforting one), which was all well and good. 

But, what was more pressing in the current moment was your view of his mirror. In which he was reflected back at you. 

Shirtless. 

You silently choked on nothing, but made no move to step away. While still thin, his shoulders and chest (chest, you thought, chest) had grown much broader since you had seen him last, and you were certain his biceps had doubled in size. His, ahem,  _ abdominal area _ was much more defined than that of a boy’s entering middle school, and, honestly was that what you had been expecting? In your defense, that  _ was _ what he had been when you’d said goodbye. (He had abs now, your brain noted, abs and pecs.)

He had been seated on his bed, typing something into his phone with headphones on when you’d first arrived, but now he started to straighten out and you felt your blush intensify (when had it started?). Because now you realized that, at least physically, you had an answer to your earlier question. 

Tsukishima Kei had grown slim, lean, and oh so, so tall. 

You gave a small squeak in pure shock and suddenly his head snapped up from his phone, taking one ear out of his headphones. 

You ran off, skidding and slipping along the wooden floor in your socks, but you got away and into the dining room with barely a sound. You leaned against the counter, trying to force your heart to calm down. 

You couldn’t believe it. Jeez, you were certain he at least had to be pushing 180 cm and suddenly your shock (and flusteredness) turned into pure betrayal and anger. How dare he? You had been the taller one from the start and you’d been very happy about that, thank you very much. Being a girl you had shot up earlier than he, of course, but approaching middle school he started gaining on you, and by the time you’d left you had been lording what centimeters you still had over him. 

Needless to say, by the time he sauntered into the room and spotted you, you’d been stewing in your outrage. 

“Well, if it isn’t  _ Miss Americana _ ,” he said, smirking as he used the nickname he had given you the minute he heard your (pretty good, better than his at any rate) American accent for the first time. He knew you hated it. 

(You missed the awkward way he had stood there, looking at you and how much you’d changed before he’d recovered and snarked.)

You flew toward him and brought a finger down onto his chest accusingly, cutting off any other greeting he might have given the childhood friend he hadn’t seen in several years. 

“Tsukishima Kei, you- you…” you trailed off, because his height was so much more prominent (and intimidating) up close, and you realized that you had a finger on his chest (which was already decent, but his bare skin flashed through your mind). He looked down (you hated it here) at you and your blushing, pouting face, one brow of his raised and his lips shaped in a small frown in his confusion. You ignored the side of your brain that pointed out how cute that was, and panicked, not sure how to pick up from the awkwardness your silence had started. 

“Wow, a few years away from Japan and she’s already forgotten how to speak the language. I guess the nickname ‘Miss Americana’ really suits—”

So you punched him in the gut. 

(What do you mean it was in retaliation? Of course not, you weren’t that petty; you just wanted to get your head out of being a blushing mess.)

(But you had to admit hitting him was a little cathartic.)

He reeled back, eyebrows furrowed above his golden-brown eyes as he clutched his stomach. 

“Did you somehow get more stupid since I last saw you?”

Hmm, guess the punch was a bit stronger than you had intended. 

Eh, he deserved it. 

“First of all, really? A punch from a girl hurt that bad?” 

Before he could respond you continued, “Second, how dare you get so tall?!? Didn’t I specifically tell you before I left  _ not _ to grow?”

He stared at you for a second, processing your words. Then he covered his chuckling mouth with his hand in that stupid, stupid way of his that in no way makes his laughing at you any less obvious or any less mean.

Soon, he was clutching his stomach for a different reason entirely, laughing in earnest just as you blushed for a different reason as well. If there was one thing Kei was good at, it was mocking people. And, while at first you had been put off by his much lower voice (hot damn was it so low), his laughter was so infectious that soon you had both collapsed into ungraceful snorts and breathless giggles. 

Your shared laughing fit seems to go on for ages. 

(More than once you were just so glad that, despite the years and distance and  _ physical developments _ , three things hadn’t changed:

The sky was still blue. 

Tsukishima Kei still loved dinosaurs. 

You were still his friend.)

Finally, though, as you were taking shaky breaths, Kei spoke his first words to you in three years that weren’t mean or teasing.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, and you felt the sincerity in his words despite the nonchalant expression he tried for (it didn’t entirely work, seeing as how he was still flushed and excited from laughing). 

Then all sentimentality flew out the window when he placed his hand at the top of his head then made a line in the air to the top of your head. 

“Shorty.”

And you swore to any and all things that he had on the smuggest face you had ever had the displeasure of seeing and were seconds away from throttling him when the doorbell rang. 

He looked down at you, smirking, as the muffled sounds of his mother welcoming your parents came from the next rooms. Lucky son of a gun was saved by the bell. 

You followed him into the kitchen to help bring the dishes out to the table, and soon both of your families joined you.

(If you kicked his shin as you went along, that was neither here nor there.

“Ah, sure,” he said, peering down at you through his glasses, “petty enough to hit the only part you can even reach.”

You wondered why you even bothered.)

—

The dinner party was loud and warm, the longtime neighbors and friends enjoying the good food and the good company.

The conversation of course drifted toward your years away, then to Mrs. Tsukishima asking after your family’s future plans. “You’re here to stay, right?”

“Yes, especially since our new jobs here pay more than the one that made us move to America,” your father answered, his cheeks tinted red by sake. 

Your mother nodded in agreement, adding with a contented sigh, “Oh, it is great to be back home.”

You couldn’t agree more. The U.S. had been great and all, and you’d learned a lot of things, but there was nothing like home. 

(Especially the home where you had friends like Kei.) 

Your inner musings were interrupted when the questions turned on you and your schooling. 

“Are you sure you’re fine with going to the same school as this beanpole?” Mr. Tsukishima asked, jerking a thumb at the mean-pole in question. 

You giggled at Kei’s expense, then answered his father. “Yeah! We got back a little late, so I won’t be starting immediately, but I’m pretty excited to actually go to the same school as Kei, for once!”

You looked to him, seated across you as his eyes widened in surprise at the news, though you would’ve thought his parents would have told him. He then narrowed his eyes at you, and before either of you could say anything, your mother asked after his older brother. 

“It’s a shame Akiteru couldn’t make it tonight; what kept him—”

“—Is it because he’s got a match? He’s got to be more than good enough for the college team - he still plays volleyball, right?” you interjected, honestly curious and slightly distracted from Kei’s odd behavior, turning to the older blonde woman. Your mother just rolled her eyes at you, but didn’t say anything because it was a question she had been planning to ask as well. 

(Though, you didn’t miss the way Kei stiffened in front of you, glaring at his food. Or the way he was clenching his chopsticks so hard you were sure they’d break.)

“Yes!” she exclaimed, but there was a flicker of unease there. 

“That boy is really dedicated! He’s still going, even after highschool—”

The sound of bamboo snapping made all heads snap in Kei’s direction. He really had broken his chopsticks in the end. He reached up to push his glasses back up higher on his nose, the light reflected on his lenses keeping you from seeing his eyes. 

“I broke my chopsticks,” he said shortly, as if that was enough of an excuse to let him leave the table, and picking the broken pieces up, headed toward the kitchen. 

Not even a beat had passed before you stood up to follow him, leaving your parents to question his. 

—

_ “Y/n! Guess what: Onii-chan’s a first-year ace, canyoubelieveit?” _

_ He was breathless with excitement, and you were, too. It had been a while since you’d last heard his voice over the phone.  _

_ “That’s so cool, Kei! I wish I had an older brother like Akiteru!” _

_ “Yeah, duh,” he said, and you could almost see him rolling his eyes, “because you’re so lame! But I’m cool and—” _

_ “—Hey!—”  _

_ “—and someday I’m gonna be just like him!” _

—

He wasn’t in the kitchen. Or his room. You made your way to their backyard and slid open the door when you saw him standing in front of their basketball hoop. He was just staring at it, and you were sure he was looking at something that wasn’t there. 

You shivered a bit as you left the house, the late spring air still held some bite. There were no stars out tonight, just the moon. 

“You’re coming to Karasuno?” 

You walked to the edge of the wooden floor, sitting down with your legs dangling over the edge since you only had your socks on. You didn’t question how he knew it was you who had gone after him. 

“Do you have a problem with that?” 

A beat passed before he shrugged, and you saw his back-muscles move through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He was lean, yes, but clearly athletic, too. He wasn’t just a skinny beanpole that was all height. He had muscle besides his height. You wondered if  _ he _ still played volleyball. Somehow though, now was not the right time to ask.

“No.”

“Do you have a problem with… anything else?”

He turned to you, but his shoulders were still tense. 

The moonlight made his glasses glow. 

“No.”

There was something more there, something that you had clearly been left out of in the years you’d been gone, but you didn’t press it. You weren’t used to this, a secretive Kei. The guy was mean and rude, but he was smart and caring. You just had to keep up with him. He’d used to be open, too. You briefly considered and decided that worse than a Kei keeping secrets was a Kei tossing you aside. 

You’d just have to give him time to open up to you again. 

“So is it any good? Karasuno, I mean,” you asked, hoping that that was a safe topic. 

He stepped forward, moving to sit next to you and taking off his glasses. You could see his eyes again, and somehow that comforted you. 

“The classes are decent, which is good because you’re gonna need them to catch up after all that crappy U.S. schooling, Miss Americana,” he snarked, and you let him insult you. Just for tonight. 

(You were pretty proud of yourself for taking the high road.) 

“There are also some… overly excitable children there, but if you stick by me then—” 

“Wait, what? So now that you’re taller than everyone else you think that gives you a right to call them children?” you exclaimed, slightly outraged but glad you had found a way to cycle back to a lighter topic. 

He sat next to you, rolling his eyes. 

“Tch. I was saying, if you stick by me then maybe,  _ just maybe _ , you’ll actually grow tall.”

A cry of honest outrage escaped your lips, and a smirk graced his. It held no malice. 

Soon the two of you were bantering back and forth once more, sitting together under the crescent moon. 

(If both of you had started smiling at some point, each content in the other’s company, well. Neither pointed it out, because then they’d have to acknowledge the matching one on their own face. And God forbid that you’d have to admit you’d missed him. You were sure he held similar sentiments.)

(And if anyone saw the two of you? Smiling fools? With only the moonlight to see by, your grins could easily be brushed off as a trick of the light.)

  
  



	2. there’s nothing like this

“ _They call his team the Crows!”_

_ You wrinkled your nose, giving him an unimpressed look that he couldn’t see.  _

_ You spoke into the phone, “Crows? Like at the dumpsters?” _

_ There was a beat as he tried to recover. Then, with an indignant voice: _

_ “Ugh, how lame, you don’t even know how cool those birds are.” _

—

“And in a while I’ll show you our clubs and gyms. We have a really nice volleyball gym, if I do say so myself. Do you play?”

As she asked, the third-year’s big brown eyes suddenly turned serious as she stopped in the middle of the hallway. It was empty, your school tour having been scheduled for a Saturday. 

You paused, too, but she spoke again before you could answer, her eyes turning soft and jovial as they had been earlier. 

“Volleyball, I mean, do you play?” she asked again. Raising her hands, she added, “It’s alright if you don’t, it’s just that I’m the captain of the girls’ team here at Karasuno!” She pointed an energetic thumb to herself with a smile. 

You returned Michimiya’s smile, glad that the older girl’s bubbly personality made it easier for you to do so. 

“Ooh, that’s cool!” you said honestly. “Ah, I don’t play, though my friend does! Or,” you paused, “I’m not sure...”. Your smile faded. You stared past Michimiya and looked further into the hallway, zoning out just a little bit. 

“... He used to, at least. He goes here. His name is Tsu—”

You stopped mid-name when you caught sight of a familiar head of blonde hair step into the hallway from a nearby entrance. 

(Speak of the devil.)

He brightened at the sight of you (read: looked a little less bored), before rolling his eyes and setting his face in a look you didn’t understand.

Then you noticed another familiar head, this one green. Your eyes widened and you waved at a freckled boy, shouting the old nickname you’d given him. 

“Yamama!”

As you approached he started to wave awkwardly, but you were having none of that. You embraced him warmly, a bit unused to having to stretch your arms to reach all around him. You felt his shoulders tense up in surprise at first, before awkwardly bringing a hand or two down to pat you on the back. 

“Y/n, you’re here!”

You pulled back and looked up to see his blushing face set in a surprised smile. You beamed back. You’d missed your strawberry. Tadashi (that sweet, shy boy) had been the best thing Kei had ever brought along to you. Besides the Tsukishimas, he was the person you missed most when you’d moved away. 

You smacked him playfully and gestured vaguely up and down, saying, “I’ve missed you, but, really? How could you do this to me, too, Tadashi? Now  _ I’m  _ the shortest one. ”

“Wow, I don’t even have to try today. You’re stupid enough to insult yourself. Pathetic.”

The both of you turned to Kei, who had narrowed his eyes at you. You crossed your arms, frowning not at the dig at both your intelligence and height, but at the tone of his voice. Something was off, but you didn’t dwell on it long because Tadashi covered his mouth and chuckled in a way that was just too much like Kei. You looked at him in horror, at which he looked rightfully apologetic, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You were about to demand what Kei had done to him, but the blonde spoke again. 

“What are you doing here, Miss Americana?” 

You heard it more clearly this time. His voice was low, the question sounding more like an accusation than an honest query, despite the teasing nickname stuck onto the end of it. He loomed over you, his expression seemingly bored. You knew better; you just wished you knew why. First the dinner and now this. 

That didn’t stop you from taking the perfect opportunity for a comeback, though. 

“Wow, Kei, it seems the stick’s been shoved up higher than usual today.”

(Hey, you’d played nice at the dinner.)

His oh-so-satisfying look of rage was cut off by a voice from behind. 

“School orientation!” it said, answering Kei’s question for you. Michimiya walked over to the three of you. You immediately stopped eye contact with Kei, looking at the floor and realizing belatedly that you’d just left the third-year there and embarrassed yourself. “The Vice Principal asked me to show her around today, since I was already going to be here for my team’s practice. You know Tsukishima and Yamaguchi?”

(Kei didn’t miss the way you folded in on yourself.) 

You nodded in silent affirmation as she continued speaking to the boys. 

“We’re almost done with the tour, actually! We might see you two later if you’re going to—”

“—No, you won’t.”

Michimiya stopped and you both stared as Kei turned on his heel and started walking back the way he came. 

“Kei?”

“Come on,” he said to Tadashi, not even turning around. 

You looked to the green-head for answers, but he didn’t meet your eyes. 

“Let’s hang out soon, Y/n! I missed you! And it was nice to see you, Michimiya,” the boy called over his shoulder as he fast-walked to his friend with a rushed “Tsukki!”.

—

Michimiya showed you around the school grounds. You visited the club rooms, the swimming pool, and the various gyms until you got to the boys’ volleyball gym. 

The two of you peeked inside, not wanting to disturb the school’s team who was already inside and absorbed in their practice. 

They seemed to be playing a practice match, five on five. Michimiya sat on the steps and watched. You did, too. 

You watched as a guy with a shaved head and a sharp grin spiked the ball to the other side with a triumphant shout. 

You gawked at the speed and agility of the shortest player (he was  _ really  _ short; you thought volleyball was for taller people?). He saved the amazing shot with a tumble and a “RoOllinggUu thuUNDAAH!”. 

You wondered at the teamwork that ensured that the ball was passed along to a grey-haired setter and at his precision when he then tossed it perfectly to a tall, broad-shouldered man with a bun and a goatee who slammed it down so hard you almost ducked reflexively. 

You winced as a sturdy-looking man at the back of the other side of the court received the spike with a painful grunt as he was pushed backwards by the ball’s sheer force. 

Finally, your breath was taken away as the dark-haired setter tossed skillfully and accurately to the small orange blocker (another tiny player!) who was already midair and swiftly brought the ball down to the opponent’s floor before their blockers could even get to him.

You were in utter awe of each player. Your years with the Tsukishimas made sure you appreciated the skill of their movements and the thought that went into their play. Though you were pretty sure the last match you’d seen was one of Kei’s practice matches (that had been full of small children) so you weren’t exactly the best judge on the level of a team.

“They’re amazing, huh?”

You peeled your eyes from the court to look at Michimiya. Her eyes were wide with admiration. She probably appreciated their skill much more than you did. You could only nod in reply. 

(Something felt off, a part of your mind told you. You counted a total of ten players. You only needed six to play, and somehow ten players on the Karasuno volleyball team seemed wrong.)

The point you had watched seemed to be the last one of their game; they began to shake hands and Michimiya got up, moving away and gesturing for you to follow. You took one last look around the gym, trying to shake the weird feeling that something was missing. You thought you heard someone say Kei’s name, grumbling about “mean people who won’t even come to practice,” but you shook your head. 

_ You’re spending too much time thinking about Kei, _ you said to yourself,  _ now you’re hearing his name everywhere and thinking about how well the team would do with him as a blocker. _ That was his old position, right? You’d have to ask him. You’d love to see him play again.

You got up to follow your guide, before you heard two shouts from within the gym. 

(“Hey, Ryū, is that—”

“Hey, Noya, is that—”)

You turned around to see the shaved-head guy and the short guy running toward you at full speed. 

“-A GIRL??!?” 

(Farther away, the grey-haired setter called uselessly after them before nodding to the guy who received the ridiculously strong spike. He nodded back.)

The two boys did a sort of leapfrog while running towards you, though the smaller one was the only one jumping over his taller teammate as they sprinted. When they reached you, they both leaned against the door frame, grinning. 

They opened their mouths to speak, but they froze when someone grabbed them by the collars of their shirts. 

“What are you two doing?” A low voice asked from behind them. You peered behind to see the sturdy man from earlier with a menacing look on his face. 

They deflated immediately, moving to stand on either side of him. The three of them bowed to you, and you returned the gesture. 

“Daichi.” he offered his name, “I’m the captain of this team, and these two are Nishinoya and Tanaka, our libero and wing spiker. They are _so_ _sorry_ ,” the two in question bowing even lower, “for rushing at you like that.”

“I-It’s alright,” you said, not meeting their eyes, and offered your own name, still slightly shaken. 

“Please accept our apologies on behalf of our second-years,” a gentle voice spoke up from behind all three of them. You looked up to see that the grey-haired setter had arrived, along with the big man with the goatee in tow.

“I’m Sugawara,” he said, bowing, before turning to the second-years and smacking them not unkindly on the top of their heads. 

(You swore you heard bonking sounds.)

Meanwhile, the goatee guy introduced himself as Asahi.

You bowed. “I’m sorry, sir! I interrupted your practice and your coaching!”

All boys paused, looking at you confusedly. Then everyone but Asahi broke into riotous laughter. He blushed hard, explaining that he was, in fact, a third-year student there, and definitely not the coach. 

(Hey, it wasn’t your fault; the goatee and the hair were so misleading.) 

You blushed, your apologies getting a little lost in the other boys’ laughter and teasing. 

(You ignored the all-too-familiar ache as you watched the group of friends have fun together. You smiled wistfully. You could tell that they were close.)

They soon excused themselves to go back to their practice, and you smiled as you said goodbye, their laughter still echoing in your ears as you in turn left to look for Michimiya.

“Oh, so you met the third-years and a couple of the second-years!” she said when you finally found her again. She chuckled a bit, “Nishinoya and Tanaka, what is Sawamura going to do with them? They’re a bit girl-crazy, but they’re really good on the court.”

She brought you to the girls’ volleyball gym and you watched a bit, marveling at their games as well. 

(Kei was true to his word. You didn’t see him.

Why was he at school on a Saturday, anyway, and Tadashi with him?)

You went home.

—

“Mrs. Tsukishima, is Kei—”

You froze as you locked eyes with the tall boy with dirty blond hair who had opened the door for you. 

“Y/n?” 

A beat passed before you ran at the second Tsukishima this week. This time however, your charge ended in a hug. 

He returned it, one arm coming down to embrace you warmly, the other ruffling your hair. 

Akiteru chuckled. “I’ve missed you, too, Y/n.”

A moment or two passed before he let you into the house, the two of you laughing about some stupid thing Kei had done years ago. You’d missed him so much. Akiteru was the big brother you never had, and the dinner party hadn’t felt right without him there. 

You hesitated for only the shortest moment in the doorway of the dining room, not seeing Kei. He was the reason you had decided to stop by today. You chided yourself; you hadn’t seen Akiteru in years and you were going to ditch him for his brother whom you’d seen only a few hours ago? 

You shook yourself and tried to move forward, but Akiteru had noticed your hesitation and placed a hand on your shoulder. Suddenly, there was an awkwardness between you brought on by the distance of three years. 

“Ah, he’s in his room.” 

“Come with me,” you said, tugging on his arm.

He shook his head, pushing you away. “It’s alright. I don’t want to be the third wheel,” he teased, but his voice had an underlying tension you didn’t understand.

Instead of pointing it out, however, you rolled your eyes at his teasing and turned to go deeper into the house.

—

You stopped in front of Kei’s door, pushing aside memories of the last time you had been here.

This time, it was closed. You knocked. 

“Who is it?” came his voice, muffled by the door.

“Kei, it’s me.”

He didn’t reply, and you waited outside for a minute, unsure of what to do. Back then you would have barged in; it didn’t feel right to do something that had felt so normal to you years ago. You reached a hand up to knock again when his door opened. And your hand was centimeters away from his chest.

He raised one eyebrow, but the meanness in his face was subdued.

“What are you doing here?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him to hide your blush.

You looked around, ignoring his comment of, “entitled Americans.”

His room was as neat as ever, with books ordered on the shelves, bed made, and (same as his desk) dinosaur toys here and there.

(Although, you noted, there was a hanger on the wall in between his desk and his door that hung empty; a space on his desk that was not occupied by books seemed out of place.)

He sat on his computer chair, swiveling around to face you and at the same time blocking your view of his desk.

You briefly considered bringing up the elephant in the room,(or rather, the elephant outside the room) but one look at his forced nonchalance, leaning back on his chair while he looked anywhere but at you, made you decide to leave it for another day. 

You took the room in, more closely this time, stalling as you tried to find a topic to dispel the awkwardness that hung in the air. Then you froze as you saw them. 

“Oh my God, you kept those?”

You walked over to his shelf, looking up at a trio of paper-plate dinosaur masks, half-hidden behind a stack of books. 

“We used to wear those all the time - or, well you did. Tadashi and I only wore ours when we would hang out with you,” you added with a chuckle.

He walked over to stand next to you in front of the shelf, his expression unreadable as he looked at the masks. 

“I’d forgotten those were there.”

“Well, come on,” you said, nudging him with your elbow, “They’re on the top shelf.”

You realized your mistake as soon as you made it. He was smirking down at you, his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows raised. Leave it to Kei to mock you with nothing more than a look. 

(Oh, how you’d missed that look, despite its meanness.)

Still, you resisted the urge to smack him.

He adjusted his glasses, and still smiling said, “Poor Miss Americana, lame  _ and  _ short.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just get on with it.” 

He snickered but complied, reaching up and bringing the items down with a boastful ease. You took them from his hands, avoiding the glue and the glitter. 

Tadashi had made his a triceratops, with orange crafting-paper horns and glitter freckles. Your own was inspired by a t-rex, haphazardly colored a deep crayon red and plastered with white triangles meant to resemble wicked teeth. (You winced at your non-existent arts-and-craft skills.) Kei’s was his favorite (obviously): a brontosaurus, painted a light shade of green as carefully as a child could manage, with a couple of black paper ovals glued on to make the nostrils. 

You chuckled as a memory surfaced. 

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. 

“Oh, nothing,” you said, placing Tadashi’s mask on a lower part of the shelf. “It’s just, when they announced that the Brontosaurus was actually Apatosaurus? You were so sad! No one could console you, not your mom, not Tadashi, not me.”

You handed him his mask. “You almost threw this in the trash even.”

He made a face at the memory as he accepted the mask. He adjusted his glasses again, “Those scientists got it wrong in the end, anyway. Pathetic.” He looked down at the paper plate in his hands. “The Brontosaurus was reexamined a few years ago and determined to be its own species.”

“Once a dino nerd, always a dino nerd,” you teased, bringing the mask up to cover your face. You’d been testing the rubber attached to the plate and had decided that it was too old, too brittle to go around your head. 

“Come on,” you said, squinting at him through the small holes of your mask. 

“What? And follow Miss Americana? No.”

You sighed at the condescending look he was giving you. Too old and mature, huh? Then, remembering something, you made a claw out of your free hand and started roaring, doing your best to sound like something from Jurassic Park. 

For a moment, he frowned in annoyance, and you were sure he was going to make a comment on your lameness. 

Instead, he just stared at you for a beat before abruptly ducking his head. He had a hand over his mouth, but he wasn’t laughing. You reached a hand out toward him.

“K-Kei?”

His head shot up as quickly as it had gone down, this time with the mask over his face, and you pulled your hand back. 

(You had no way of knowing that the thought of you being cute while pretending to be a dinosaur was what had made him bow his head; no way of knowing that he had put the mask on to hide the blush that persisted. No way of knowing at all.)

“Tch. How childish.”

You could  _ feel _ the smirk through the mask. 

“Childish?! That was an amazing impression of  _ you _ ! You used to stomp around and roar like that all that time.”

“As. A. Child.” 

“Big talk coming from someone wearing a paper plate covered in paint and glue on his face.”

“Pathetic.”

“Jerk.”

The two of you rolled your eyes at the same time. Though, you were smiling. You knew he was, too. 

Your eyes met, gazes locking into place. It couldn’t have lasted for more than a moment, but you realized that yes, you had missed him dearly.

(You found yourself admiring the golden-brown of his irises, as if realizing for the first time how pretty they actually were.)

(What did he think of your eyes?)

Then there was a knock at the door, interrupting your staring contest. 

(You took a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.)

“Kei, Y/n, there’s dinner if you’ll join us.” 

Us. 

Mrs. Tsukishima, possibly her husband, and Akiteru. 

—

Dinner was a somber affair. 

Akiteru was trying his best to keep the conversation going, his mother next to him. 

Kei ate quickly, and left the table within minutes. 

He didn’t speak once. 

—

_ “Come on, Kei! You used to do it all the time!” _

_ “No.” _

_ “One little roar, please!!!” _

_ “No.” _

_ “Pretty please with a cherry on top?” you pleaded into the phone, using the English phrase with a practiced ease.  _

_ “No! And stop with the English, Miss Americana.” _

_ You rolled your eyes.  _

_ “Lame,” he added.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This chapter got a bit long, especially since we got to spend quite a bit of time with the Karasuno volleyball club, but I couldn’t resist adding in Tanaka and Noya  
> 2\. If you google tsukki’s room, you’ll see that the empty hanger and empty spot on his desk are usually occupied by his Jersey and a volleyball!! Just fyi HAHA  
> 3\. The bronto did in fact get reinstated as its own species! I found that pretty cool since I grew up thinking it was someone’s funny mistake.


	3. you know i adore you

_“School here is weird.”_

_“You should be fitting in just fine then.”_

_You gasped offendedly._

—

A phone was ringing. The sound was jarring, a default ringtone that someone hadn’t bothered to change. 

Someone should really answer it. 

You rolled over in bed, wondering why your pillow was vibrating. It took you a second to realize the two were related. 

Groaning, you picked up your phone and answered, putting it on speaker. 

“Hello…?” you asked, yawning. 

“Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Ugly.”

You narrowed your eyes, Kei’s voice (accompanied by a snarky remark, as per usual) barely registering in your sleep-addled mind. 

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes as you sat up sluggishly. It was too early for this. 

“Kei, what?” you opened your crusty eyes to peek at the clock, “It’s only—”

Oh, shit.

You started scrambling to get off the bed, getting yourself more tangled in the sheets in your rush. 

A mean chuckle came from the other end of the line at your abrupt silence. 

“Ah yes, it’s only much later than it should be. First day of school and she’s already late—”

You cut him off half-intentionally with a string of curses as you finally leapt out of bed, rushing around your room. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t come to school after all. Karasuno doesn’t need a delinquent in its ranks. Especially one that knows so many swears.”

‘You mean _another_ delinquent’, you wanted to say, but you couldn’t spare the time.

“Fuck off,” you said instead, shoving your textbooks and school supplies into your backpack.

“She even uses English swears!”

You glanced outside your window, half-expecting to see him smirking at you from the street. Why were you surprised that he wasn’t? 

(You shut down your growing disappointment. It was only Kei.)

“And where are _you_ , Mean-pole?”

“Pff,” you could just see him covering his mouth as he did so, “‘Mean-pole’? How old are you?”

You didn’t respond, cursing under your breath as your brush got caught on another set of tangles in your hair.

“I’m already at school, Miss Americana. Some of us actually get up on time.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he was already at the school. What had you expected? That he’d wait for you and walk you to school? You’d laugh if you had the time. 

You ended the call and took one last glance in the mirror. Karasuno’s uniform wasn’t _bad_ , you just had to get used to wearing the same thing as everyone else again. You sighed at your still-unkempt hair. You’d have to brush it on the way.

You raced down the stairs, taking them three steps at a time and almost slipping for all your trouble.

Your parents called out to you as you ran past them, but you didn’t stop, only waving vaguely in their direction with a rushed greeting. 

Holding the brush in your mouth, you got your shoes on and left the house.

—

You were huffing and puffing as you crossed Karasuno’s threshold, cursing the mountain’s steep climb.

You fast-walked to your classroom, weaving in and out of students who were either late like you or loitering outside their rooms. You nearly ran right into a shorter girl; as it was, you just hit her with your side pretty hard. She stumbled backwards with a squeak, but you caught her arm before she could fall. You stammered out your apologies, to which she only nodded dazedly as she looked at you.

(Was that… a blush on her cheeks? It was probably from the rush of almost falling.)

You sprinted the rest of the way after one last bow, cursing your clumsiness all the while. 

Finally, you made it to your room. Taking a moment to breathe, brush your hair out of your face, and adjust your outfit, you stepped inside. 

You immediately spotted Kei and Tadashi, seated next to each other at their desks. In the moments before they spotted you, you noted that the latter had been looking around the classroom anxiously, while Kei had been frowning, eyes set on the window, looking for something. 

(You ducked your head when you took in the rest of your class. Most of them were already grouped up, talking to each other or laughing amongst themselves.) 

You looked up when Tadashi called out to you; Kei simply rolled his eyes and looked out the window again. 

You walked over to them, waving to the green-head and pointedly ignoring the blonde. 

You took your seat behind the taller boy, relieved to note that you were still a few minutes early. 

“Are you just so far gone that you don’t care about being on time on your first day?”

You narrowed your eyes at Kei, who turned in his seat, smirking. 

As you placed your things in your desk, he added, “Did you even bother to set an alarm?”

“I did,” you replied shortly. “Two words: jet lag,” you added in English.

You’d spent at least an hour tossing and turning, the awkward dinner at the Tsukishimas’ keeping you up. 

(And before that? The stare you’d shared… 

Kei didn’t need to know that.)

He scoffed and turned back to the front, rolling his eyes (golden-brown as ever).

“Miss Americana.”

“Why you— Why’d you bother calling and waking me up at all if you were gonna do it so late?”

“Because it was funny.”

“Four-eyed jerk!”

“Tch. Pathetic.”

You were about to fire back when your teacher came in. You stood up with the rest of your class to greet him, cursing Kei all the while.

(Tadashi, meanwhile, had just been watching the two of you, mildly concerned.)

—

By the time lunch break rolled around, you were starving. In your rush this morning you’d forgotten to bring your bento box. You groaned, trying to ignore your grumbling stomach. You’d just have to wait it out. Not the first time you’d skipped a meal, anyway. 

“Y/n, why aren’t you eating your lunch?”

Tadashi was turned around in his seat, chopsticks in hand. 

“I-I forgot it,” you admitted, trying to cover up the sound that your growling stomach made at the sight of the bento box on his desk. It didn’t work, and his eyes grew wide with concern. 

“Do you want some of mine?” he offered, frowning, and he was just too adorable. 

What a sweet child; you’d missed him so much. It still escaped you how he had ever made friends with Kei in the first place. 

An all-too-familiar sigh came from in front of you, “What’s Miss Americana complaining about now?”

“None of your business, four-eyes,” you replied snippily. 

He raised an eyebrow at your unprovoked meanness. 

You sighed, trying not to let your hunger dictate your attitude. 

“Well, since _someone_ ,” you said a little more evenly, eyeing Kei pointedly, “decided that it would be funny to wake me up late today, I forgot my lunch at home.”

You winced at the memory. You’d left the house so quickly that you didn’t even remember seeing the little package. 

“Tch. Don’t blame me. You’re the one who woke up late in the first place.”

You groaned into your hands as your stomach made a similar sound. 

“Ugh, I know. I _know_.”

(Head in hands, you missed the way Kei looked at you, his eyes softening. Tadashi, on the other hand, watched with thinly-veiled surprise and curiosity at his best friend’s unusual behavior. The blonde noticed the other’s staring, and rolled his eyes.)

Your face still buried in your palms, you heard another sigh from in front of you. 

“Is this it?”

You looked up to see Kei getting up from his chair, in one hand his open soda can, in the other a squarish object above you wrapped up neatly in one of your dad’s old handkerchiefs. 

You gaped at your bento box and then up at him. Shock was etched across your features. 

“How—”

“I know a certain someone well enough to guess that she,” he said, giving you the same look you’d given him when you’d called him out earlier, “would be stupid enough to forget her lunch at home today.”

You stared up at him, your surprise morphing into a warmth that spread throughout your body at the thought that he’d taken time to think of you. 

(Your cheeks, in particular, were pretty warm.)

(You didn’t notice the way his eyes took in your grateful face and the way that your eyes shined.)

“I—Kei, thank you,” you said, reaching for the food. Maybe Kei _had_ changed a little bit for the better in your absence.

Then he lifted it up just out of your reach, smirking.

All the warmth left your body, leaving only a cold fury behind. Suddenly, it occured to you that if he had your lunch, then he’d been to your house earlier that morning. And if he had been to your house, then he’d had the perfect opportunity to wake you up on time, maybe even to wake you up early. 

You made another grab for the package, lifting yourself off of your seat ever so slightly. He, still standing, just raised it higher. 

You crossed your arms and glared. 

“Real mature. How old are you?” you hissed, echoing his question from earlier. 

Instead of answering, he raised both eyebrows in a silent challenge, as if to say: _Oh, are you too short?_

You narrowed your eyes. Oh, it was _on_. You made your third attempt, careful to keep your eyes on your lunch as you lunged again. He reacted quickly, the box going high. 

Your fingers closed around your target. You leaned back against your desk, a triumphant smirk on your face as you lifted the can of soda up for him to see. His eyes were wide with surprise. He hadn’t been expecting _that_. 

Before he could say anything, you looked him the eye and took a long, nice sip. 

(Tadashi’s eyes widened and a blush formed on his freckled cheeks, realizing something.) 

The soda was a sweet cola flavor, the brand some local one that you either didn’t recognize or didn’t remember, and it was only a little warm. 

You pulled the can away from your mouth to see Kei staring angrily at you, his eye twitching. 

“What’s wrong Kei? Mouth so parched you can’t speak?”

You took another sip. 

(It really wasn’t bad. You should try getting one of these for yourself sometime.)

“That’s my drink.”

You tapped your nails on the metal. 

“And that’s my lunch.”

Glaring, he held out both hands, one with the lunch and one empty. You smirked harder as you traded the soda for the bento box. 

“You’re disgusting,” he said as you sat down and began to open your lunch. 

You rolled your eyes. A little saliva wouldn’t stop you from getting what you wanted. You took a bite of your dad’s cooking. 

Mmm, victory had never tasted so good. 

“I-in…”

The two of you turned to Tadashi, who was staring at you, then Kei, stuttering something. You shot a confused look at the blonde, who just shrugged. 

“I-Indirect kis—” 

“Yamaguchi,” Kei interrupted too quickly. 

You and Tadashi looked at him. 

(Were his cheeks… flushed?)

He pushed his glasses up and nodded in the direction of the classroom’s exit. Tadashi got up and so did you. 

(He _had_ been blushing, you were certain of it now. It must have been because of what Tadashi had been going to say.)

(So what was it that Tadashi had been going to say?)

“Kei? Where are you go—”

“You got your cooties all over my soda,” he said with disgust. “I’m buying a new one. Take this,” he added dismissively, shoving the can into your hands.

You stopped in the middle of the doorway. 

“Cooties?” you stared at the can in disbelief. You sort of knew that ‘cooties’ could be spread when a boy and a girl… do nothing more than share a drink, but for some reason the thought of it brought heat to your cheeks. 

“I don’t have cooties!” you cried out indignantly, still blushing. He ignored you as he began to head down the hallway. 

“Oi, get back here. I don’t want your lousy, half-drunk cola!” you called after him. “And why does Tadashi have to go with you?”

You rolled your eyes at his dismissive wave, about to turn to go back to your classroom when someone walked up to you in the hallway. 

“Hi,” she said, pulling out a paper from the stack she held to her chest.

(“That is the prettiest girl I have ever seen,” one of your classmates whispered behind you, and you couldn’t agree more. 

You could feel the eyes of your peers on you, and on her. 

Flawless skin, smooth raven locks, dark eyes. 

You didn’t lean that way, but you could appreciate beauty when you saw it.)

She introduced herself as Kiyoko. You accepted the paper from her hand as an excuse to break eye contact. You quietly gave your name in turn and skimmed what was a… crudely drawn poster. 

“Oh,” you said, “You’re looking for a new manager for the boys’ volleyball club?” 

—

_“Tch. I’ll call again later.”_

_“What? Why?” you asked, trying to keep up the fake-cheerful tone you’d been putting on the entire call. You’d been especially homesick lately, and now the one connection you had to home was about to hang up._

_“Because clearly, something’s up.”_

_“What? No! I’m just a little tired from the jetlag, that’s all.”_

_“Pathetic. Either you ‘fess up or I’m hanging up.”_

_You paused. Your voice cracking a bit you said, “How can you tell?”_

_“Because I know you, Y/n.”_

_You softened at his familiarity with you, feeling a little less far from home._

_“Also because you are a pathetic liar.”_

_There was the Kei you missed._

—

You made your way back to your classroom, spotting Kei leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed. 

“You were gone for so long I thought you were planning on ditching class.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him. 

“So, why weren’t you here with me—,” he stopped, backtracking quickly. “I mean, with your lunch?” 

“Aww, Kei,” you replied, putting a hand over your heart in mock sincerity, “you missed me that much?”

(He had wanted you to stay here with him. You tried to shut down the ensuing assumptions your mind was making.)

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she got lost on her way to the bathroom,” Kei commented snidely to Tadashi, covering his mouth with his hand but still speaking loudly. The freckled boy, in turn, snickered just a little bit. 

Suddenly you remembered why they were friends. 

(There was the oh-so familiar sting of his words. You brushed off his earlier question as a blush that had been creeping up on you dissipated before it could form properly. This was just Kei being Kei.)

Rolling your eyes, you opened up the aforementioned lunch, relieved that flies and bugs hadn’t gotten to it. 

(For a moment you wondered who’d taken the time to repackage it; you knew you hadn’t. You considered your two friends. It was probably Tadashi.)

“So, where did you go, Y/n?” This time, Tadashi was the one asking. 

Kei was still looking at you, his brow raised. You turned to Tadashi to answer. 

“Well, I was actually helping out another student hand out some flyers.”

In front of you, Kei stiffened in his seat, brows furrowing.

“Oh yeah?” Tadashi asked, “what’s their name?”

“You probably don’t know each other,” you said around bites of lunch, “Third-year. And probably the most attractive one at this school.”

“Tch. No, they aren’t.”

You turned to Kei, who was focused on adjusting the headphones around his neck. 

“Really?” you asked, skeptical. “You seem to be convinced of that. Then who is the most attractive student in this school?”

He looked at you for a moment, and your brain supplied you with an image of a deer caught in headlights. Though, considering his build, a giraffe caught in headlights would make more sense. 

You smirked at his silence. “See? I mean, you haven’t even seen the third-year yet; what would you know? 

He looked away and took a breath, fixing his glasses, before answering, “I know you.”

Your brain froze. Did he just say he thought you were—

“And I know that your beauty standards are pretty low,” he smirked back. He turned to Tadashi. “Remember the time she had a crush on—”

The freckled boy nodded and chuckled into his hand, realizing who Kei was referring to. 

You raised your hands.

“—Okay! Whatever! No need to relive past mistakes!”

Tadashi snickered again, and Kei smirked as he turned to face forward again, reaching for his headphones.

You sighed, shaking your head. A compliment? From Kei? Very funny. 

With only a few minutes left for lunch break, you quickly scarfed down the rest of your lunch. 

(“Pig.”

“I’m not going to put this food to waste. Unlike someone, who tossed his drink aside just because he doesn’t like sharing.”

“Tch. That’s not why I did it,” he said, pulling his headphones on.)

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!!


	4. no cameras catch my pageant smile

_“Tch.”_

_“Don’t you ‘Tch’ me!”_

—

You picked up your vibrating phone, answering the call. 

“Late again, Miss Americana? I would have thought that you knew how to set an alarm at the very least.”

You sighed. “Good morning to you, too, Kei.”

You glanced at the time. Well, at least he’d decided to wake you up a little earlier today. 

“Right. Is it really that good of a morning if you’re running late for school? For the second day in a row _?_ ”

You could just see him sneering. You only yawned in reply. 

“Tch. Just don’t forget your lunch this time, Sleeping Ugly. I didn’t pass by your house today.”

“That works out just fine...,” you paused, waving to a surprised Tadashi through the window of your classroom as he and an oblivious Kei on the phone walked by. 

You took your lunch out of your bag in time to see the two boys staring at you from the doorway of your classroom. 

“... because my lunch is right here with me.”

You smirked as Kei put his phone down and pushed his glasses up higher along his nose. Tadashi was holding in his laugh. 

You didn’t drop the smirk as the two came closer. “Thanks for waking me up, Kei,” you spoke into your phone’s speaker. Tadashi laughed then. 

“Wow,” Kei replied, setting his stuff down, “you woke up on time, just like the majority of the student body. What an accomplishment. Congratulations, I’m impressed. That’s what you were trying to do, right? Impress me?”

Tadashi snickered again. You narrowed your eyes at him, but he just smiled and said, “Good morning, Y/n!”

You rolled your eyes, and turned to Kei. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t get up early for _you_ , as much as your ego would have you believe.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. 

“No, I woke up early to print some papers for the third-year I met yesterday.”

He frowned, “The ‘pretty’ one?”

You hummed in agreement as you took a sip of your canned coffee, fresh from the vending machine. 

(You didn’t notice the look that Tadashi was giving Kei.)

You remembered when you told her that you wouldn’t join the club just yet, offering as an excuse the extra schoolwork you, as a transferring student, had been given. (Only partially true. You really did want to at the very least try it out; it was just that it felt wrong going behind Kei’s back like that when clearly something was up with him and volleyball. Which was a shame; you used to love watching him and his brother play.) Her smile, though a little sad and clearly conveying her disappointment at your answer, was still dazzling. And the way she’d tucked her hair behind her ears as she thanked you for printing out club registration forms for her and helping her hand out flyers yesterday was so cute several other students stopped and stared. If you could just get past her distracting beauty, Kiyoko was hard-working and caring - she’d even insisted that you do your extra work today instead of helping her. 

(You wished you could get closer to her, but it seemed that both of you had a habit of keeping quiet around others.)

“Pretty doesn’t begin to cut it, but, yeah, the ‘pretty’ one. We met up this morning.”

“Tch,” was all Kei said as he sat down and pulled on his headphones.

—

You poked the back of Kei’s head. He was leaning back pretty far in his chair, headphones on. He took out an ear and looked at you, eyebrow raised. 

“Come get a drink with me,” you said.

“I would say I’m flattered,” he replied, ”but I’m not. Go drinking with another delinquent.”

You scowled; the blonde had been sullen since you’d one-upped him this morning. (Or was it for another reason?)

“You know that’s not what I meant. Come with me to the vending machine, Kei. I want the same soda you had yesterday.”

“No,” he said, turning back around. 

You poked him again. “Come on, Kei.”

“No. Stop with the poking.”

You rolled your eyes. The headphones went over his ears once more. 

You moved to poke him a third time, but he glared at you out of the corner of his eye, effectively stopping your hand. You sighed and drew it back, crossing your arms. 

“Jerk,” you spat, but you had a feeling he couldn’t hear you. 

You tapped your fingers restlessly. Tadashi had left to go to the bathroom and Kei had had his ears stuck in those headphones since the start of the lunch break. You still had a lot of time before lunch was over, and while you did in fact have to do the extra work you’d mentioned to Kiyoko earlier, you wanted that soda, too. 

(And you wanted Kei to stop ignoring you.)

You looked at the back of his head, his earphones coming over the top of his light hair. An idea struck you. You grinned mischievously. 

His head still near enough to accomplish this, you reached forward and yanked the headphones from his head. And while it hadn’t been as smooth as you would’ve liked (you’d grazed some part of his head with your fingers), you cheered inwardly that his phone and wire came along with them. 

His body jolted in surprise and his hands flew up to the sides of his head, but it was too late. You got up from your chair, his headphones around your neck and his phone in your hand, and took a few slow steps to stand next to his desk. 

He scowled up at you, one hand still covering an ear. 

He held out the other hand. 

You raised your eyebrows, shooting him an innocent, questioning look. 

“Give them to me.”

You ran a finger along the wire, seeming to consider, before looking back at him. “Mmm, no.”

He scowled harder. “What do you want this time, Miss Americana?”

“Come get a drink with me,” you teased. 

He shot you an unimpressed look. 

“What are you, a kid? Do you really need a babysitter?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing. Well, it wasn’t for a lack of trying. “Fine then. I guess I’ll just have to take these with me in your stead.” You started to walk toward the exit. 

You heard a deep sigh from behind you. Not stopping, you glanced at him over your shoulder. 

“Tch,” he spoke up,”I’d tell you to get back quickly so I can get my stuff back sooner, but I know that your short legs won’t allow for that.”

You glared at him out of the corner of your eye as you reached the classroom’s exit. 

As you slipped his headphones on, you caught a mumbled, “... has _my_ headphones; better not go off with some lame third-year again.”

—

You walked along the corridor, Kei’s headphones blasting music into your ears and a soda in your hand. 

The blonde’s taste in music wasn’t half bad. You had already made note of several songs, planning to get them on your own phone later. 

(You hadn’t met the ‘lame third-year’ during this little excursion, but you wondered how Kei would have reacted if you had.)

You were almost to the classroom now, nodding your head to the beat of the song. You were just coming up on the door when you spotted a couple of semi-familiar faces. 

The dark-haired setter and the short spiker were walking in your direction, looking somewhat downcast. You took an ear out of the headphones, considering calling out to them as they passed by. Thinking better of it, you were about to go back to Kei’s music when they said something that caught your attention. 

“I can’t believe Tsukishima won’t tutor us even a little bit right now. He’s not even doing anything,” the setter complained. 

“Yeah!” the orange-head replied, jumping somewhat. “He wasn’t even listening to music! Ugh. Stingyshima!” he said, shaking his fist. 

You froze. Stingy… oh no. 

“Pfffffff,” you said, covering your mouth so as not to spray any passersby. You burst into laughter, the two stopping and staring at your sudden outburst. 

(Eyes still on youl, Hinata covered his mouth indiscreetly and whispered, “She’s wearing his headphones!”

“Shut up, dumbass. She’ll hear you.”)

You calmed down after a few seconds, turning to speak to them, but stopped when you noticed them whispering to each other. You looked down at the floor, slightly self-conscious all of a sudden. 

You let them finish, not wanting to intrude. You forced yourself to speak up as you felt their confused stares on you. “I’m sorry, it’s just,” you paused, the thought of what these two must have gone through at Kei’s tutoring whims managing to make you smile. You couldn’t get over ‘Stingyshima’. You met their eyes. “Come on, I’ll get Kei to tutor you.”

The two looked to each other, the taller one realizing that you knew Kei and shooting his friend a look that so clearly said ‘Dumbass-you-just-insulted-him-in-front-of-his-friend’. You nearly burst out laughing again. They then looked to you, the dark-haired boy with an eyebrow raised skeptically and the shorter one with a confused expression. 

“We already tried—”

“Kei?—”

A beat passed as they looked at each other again. 

“Idiot, that’s his—”

“—I know that!” the short one half-whispered to the setter before turning to you, “Tsukishima lets you call him by his first name?” His eyes were wide with disbelief. 

Of course the crazy duo you’d witnessed on Saturday would be as strange off-court as they were on-court. You chuckled again, looking down at the floor again under his stare. You smiled to yourself, content knowing that only a small few could call the great Tsukishima Kei by his first name, and that you were a part of that number. 

“Yeah, I mean, why wouldn’t he?” you said, “We’re friends after all.”

(It felt good to say that. You were friends with Kei. And Tadashi. You had friends.)

You turned around to head to the classroom as the two behind you exchanged a look for the third time. 

“Now, let’s go; Kei _will_ tutor you… or else.”

—

Kei was just putting away his lunch when the three of you walked up to his desk. 

“I think I overestimated your stride, Miss—” He stopped mid-insult when he looked up, spotting the two boys behind you. 

He narrowed his eyes at your group, looking between you and them before settling on a bored expression. “What is this?” he asked dismissively, but you saw through it; he was genuinely curious. He needed to know. He was glaring at the two behind you in particular. 

(They knew something you didn’t.)

You raised an eyebrow at Kei. “ _These_ , are Hinata and Kageyama, who I met in the hallway, and who you are supposed to tutor.”

(If you hadn’t noticed him stiffen earlier, you certainly noticed him unstiffen at your answer.)

“That’s it? Tch.”

A few moments of silence passed. 

“Give me my headphones back; I’m not going to help your fellow delinquents.”

You shook your head. “Look, you’ve already put away your lunch, so you don’t have an excuse not to tutor these guys.”

“Simple. I don’t want to.”

You glared at him. He glared at you. You glared back. 

Finally, he exhaled, pushing his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he relented, nodding to Hinata and Kageyama to sit down. They did so, placing their notebooks and pens on Kei’s desk. You nodded in reply to the grateful looks they sent your way and were moving to your own desk when Kei spoke again. 

“I can’t believe the great King of the Court,” he said, spitting out the words, “and his minion are so useless that they have to ask Miss Americana for help.” 

The orange-haired boy began squawking in protest as Kageyama abruptly stood up. 

You could feel the latter’s glare even if it wasn’t directed at you. “Why you—“ the setter began, but was cut off. 

Kei held out his hand, ignoring both of them and effectively cutting the setter off, wordlessly asking you for his headphones back. Clearly, he already had mean nicknames set aside for each person. You raised your eyebrows at him, unimpressed, and ignored his open palm and sat down at your desk. The crazy duo had calmed down somewhat and were now watching. 

“I want my headphones back, Gaijin-kun.”

You smiled at him. “Aww, I wouldn’t keep your things from you just because you teased me, Kei. Not everyone is as petty as you. Just think of it as an assurance that you’ll keep your attention on them and not your music,” you said, slipping the headphones over your ears again. 

“Besides,” you added honestly, “I like your music,” pressing shuffle on one of his playlists.

You were too distracted by the song that came on to notice Kei’s small, dopey smile at your words, but Hinata and Kageyama had been watching the entire interaction (with a mixture of awe and fear), and they certainly did.

He turned back to them, and after a, “Tch,” from his end, they got to work.

—

“Tch.”

You rolled your eyes at the sound. It always somehow made it past the headphones and the music just for your hearing pleasure. You looked up from your extra schoolwork and met Tadashi’s eye. He’d arrived not long after Kei had started the tutoring session, surprised to see the crazy duo there. Though, he’d only taken one look at your head and Kei’s headphones around it to shake his initial surprise. Now he just sighed, glancing in Kei’s direction and shaking his head. You both smiled, before refocusing on your respective desks, him on his lunch and you on you work.

Some (though not a lot of) time passed before you heard it again. 

“Tch.”

This time, you didn’t look up, instead just wincing inwardly at the plight of the two boys. You wondered how desperate they were to have to basically beg Kei to tutor them. They were working on English right now, and as you were undeniably better at it than the blonde, you definitely would’ve offered your own services. But, seeing as how you also had your own work to do, you could only watch and shake your head in sympathy. 

(Maybe they would’ve been better off if you hadn’t interfered.)

“Tch,” went the Kei a third time, but this time Hinata spoke up.

“You’re clicking your tongue too much! What are you, a clock?”

You and Tadashi started laughing at the same time. 

Well, you were laughing. Tadashi was snickering. You did not regret interfering at all, especially once you saw the constipated face Kei made when he looked at you and Tadashi. 

Then, a thought struck you.

“Tch-kishima.”

Kei dropped his face into his open palm in disgust. Tadashi was snickering again, and so were Kageyama and Hinata… until Kei lifted his face to silence the latter two with a look. He didn’t turn around to meet your smirk, but you knew he was rolling his eyes. He didn’t click his tongue for the rest of the day, though, so you considered that a win for all involved.

Going back to your work smilingas another song in his playlist came up that you thought would fit in nicely with your own songs. 

As you took note of the song’s title to add to your own playlist later, you paused.

Some of the songs on Kei’s playlist you understood; they just made sense with the Kei you knew, the Kei you’d missed. Others however, made less sense. They were a part of the Kei you’d missed out on. You sighed. Add another thing to the ever-growing list of unfamiliar things that had sprung up between the two of you in your absence. 

You glanced discreetly at all four boys, speaking of things you didn’t know, were out of the loop about. You wondered how they all knew each other, and how on earth the two boys would even think of asking Kei, of all people. Add that to the list of things you didn’t know about one of your best friends. 

(Wait, best friend? Oh, God, disgusting but true.)

(You ignored the decidedly Kei-sounding voice in the back of your head that whispered he was one of your only friends.) 

Maybe when you'd gather the courage, or when Kei stopped being so secretive, then you would ask how they all were friends. 

Maybe you could be a friend of theirs too. 

You shook yourself and skipped the song.

—

Eventually, Kageyama and Hinata both left. 

(“But not even Yamaguchi calls him ‘Kei’!”

Kageyama’s eyes widened before he nodded. “Then… you don't think…?”

Hinata nodded vigorously. “It makes sense, right?”)

Kei, seated just as he had been when you’d stolen them, held his hand out, asking for the third time that day for his headphones. You considered his open palm for a moment. Instead, you placed them around his neck. It seemed right to give them back the way you’d taken them. He looked back to you, a blush coloring his cheeks and his eyes wide.

“S-Stupid, why would you give them back like that?”

Suddenly, you were blushing, too, drawing your hand back from his neck like he was on fire. “Why? What’s wrong with it?” you asked, defensive and… flustered. 

(Why was he flustered? Why were you? There was absolutely nothing wrong with what you did.)

He froze for a few seconds. Then, still blushing, he rolled his eyes and faced forward again. “Idiot,” he muttered. 

You opened your mouth, offended. “Wh—” 

You paused. Alright, forget being flustered, because he was clearly just being mean. “Well, you’re the one making a big deal out of it, _Stingyshima_. That’s what Kageyama and Hinata were calling you in the hall.” 

With him refusing to look back at you, you didn’t see his blush intensify.

“Tc—”

He stopped himself. You smirked despite the heat in your cheeks that persisted.

“Whatever.”

—

_“Did you really trip on your earphone wire?” You tried to push down your giggles. You didn’t mind that you were unsuccessful._

_You heard soft snickering on the other end that couldn’t have been anyone but Tadashi, from whom Kei had stolen the phone once he realized what your mutual friend was telling you._

_“It’s not even that funny; and no one wants to hear your lame laugh.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!! May 2021 be good to y’all!


	5. no cameras catch my muffled cries

_ “Bye Tadashi! Miss you!” you said sincerely as the green-head got off the call. There were a few shuffling noises as the phone transferred hands and you faintly heard the boys saying goodbye to each other.  _

_ “I’ll be going, too, Miss Americana. I’ve got other things to do than talk to you,” Kei said soon after that.  _

_ You scoffed. “Is that your version of a goodbye? Really, Kei? Your family is so nice and you’re such a-a,” you paused, looking for the right word. _

_ “A-a-at a loss for words, Miss Americana?” he sneered. _

_ “A meanie, that’s what you are!” _

—

“I can’t believe you ditched me again yesterday,” you complained into your phone’s microphone. You used your free hand to keep the rising sun’s rays out of your eyes as you made your way up the mountain and to the school. 

A sigh came from the other end of the line. “Did you already forget or are you  _ choosing _ to be annoying?” Kai asked, his irritation evident in his voice. “I told you: the two idiots you met during lunch make me tutor them everyday after school.”

“I refuse to believe that Kageyama and Hinata need so much help with school that they take up your entire afternoon.”

“Tch. You’d be surprised.”

“You need to stop being so mean to them,” you scolded him, offended on their behalf. 

“And you need to lower your standards when it comes to them.”

You rolled your eyes, pausing for a moment in front of a convenience store as you made your way to school. Huh. You hadn’t noticed the shop before. Though, to be fair, you hadn’t really been paying attention to your surroundings the past two days. You’d mostly been rushing because you’d been late and then rushing because you’d wanted to be early. Making a mental note to visit it later, you kept walking. As you neared the school, you began to see more and more of your fellow students, walking alone or in groups. 

“Whatever, Kei. Some childhood friend you are.” You sighed. “Maybe I should’ve walked home with Kiyoko instead,” you added quietly to yourself. 

You hadn’t meant for him to hear, but, “Walked home with who? The third year?” came his voice, low and questioning. 

“I  _ should’ve  _ walked home with her, but I didn’t.”

There was silence from his end. You bit your lip, half-regretting mentioning Kiyoko. You didn’t like when Kei got like this, but it was happening more and more often nowadays. As for the reason why… 

“What, Kei, are you jealous?” you teased, pushing aside that line of thought. 

“Tch. No,” he replied quickly. 

“Mmhmm. Sure,” you said, teasingly. Changing the subject, you continued, “Just know that you owe me.”

That took him by surprise. “Wha— what for? Where did you get that idea, Miss Americana?”

You sent him a telepathic glare at the nickname. “Yes, you do! You owe me two: one for each afternoon that I’ve had to walk home all alone.”

“Pathetic loner,” he drawled. 

You couldn’t reply, a painful pang hurting your heart all of a sudden. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, you silently watched the other kids walking past you. You couldn’t see anyone alone, all the teenagers having paired up or grouped themselves in sets of three or more. 

“Good one, Kei,” you finally said into the phone. “Figure that out on your own?”

A beat passed as he processed your words. 

“Y/n, what—”

You hung up. 

You stood there for a few minutes, staring at your phone’s screen. 

You angrily shoved it into your pocket when his caller ID never showed. You laughed bitterly. Of course. Kei of all people would not call you back and apologize.

You looked around, the number of students around having dwindled since you’d last checked. 

You took a few shaky breaths and started making your way to class. 

—

Someone tiredly sighed in front of you. You ignored it, dutifully packing away your things and keeping your mouth shut as you had been doing all day. 

“Alright, Y/n, what’s all this about—”

“L/n, there’s a couple of people looking for you.”

(Looking for you? Who would be looking for you…)

You turned to face the classmate who had interrupted and called your name. He was pointing to the door of your classroom, in which stood two girls: Kiyoko and a blonde you didn’t recognize. 

(She seemed familiar. You didn’t look at her long enough, though, before dropping your gaze to make your way towards them.)

(That was why you missed the way she was staring at you curiously.)

You quietly made your way to the door, bowing slightly to both girls. Your head went back up but your eyes shyly didn’t, not even as the third-year introduced Yachi Hitoka, a girl she’d finally found to join the team. 

“I’m going to show her to the gyms and let her see the team while they practice,” Kiyoko said in that soft yet determined manner of hers, “do you want to come along?”

You were finding it hard to think of a way to politely decline as you stood under Kiyoko’s silent and hopeful gaze. You were about to answer when the blonde ( _ Yachi _ , your mind supplied) suddenly spoke up. 

“Oh! I know, you’re the girl that bumped into me a few days ago!”

Your eyes widened in surprise and your cheeks turned embarrassedly red as you looked at her. You took in her features, not recognizing them until she started blushing, too. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry! I didn’t seriously hurt you, did I? I was really in a rush that morning, I’m sorry,” you said worriedly, bowing low. 

“Nonononono! It’s ok!” she said just as frantically. “I was just having a hard time recognizing youandohnoit’salrightpleaseyoudon’thaveto—”

You peeked up at her when her rushed words became incoherent noises. She was waving her arms at you frantically, and despite the gibberish, you got the sense that she was still trying to insist that it was “ok”. 

(Somehow she seemed more flustered than you.)

(Yachi wondered why the girls she had to meet in this school were so pretty.)

You straightened up sheepishly as the blonde slowly calmed down. Kiyoko smiled softly, looking confused but amused nonetheless. Yachi only got more red at the third-year’s smile. You glanced at the two of them. Kiyoko seemed to be doing fine without you. She’d already found Yachi on her own, hadn’t she? They would make a great pair of managers. 

  
  


(You didn’t want to intrude. Besides, three’s a crowd. )

You bowed ever-so-slightly for the third time. “I’m sorry, Kiyoko, but I don’t think I’ll go to the practice. I can’t dedicate myself to being a manager just yet. I still have so much extra work to catch up on,” you told her. 

(You were using the same excuse twice, but you hoped that Kiyoko didn’t think you were trying to get rid of her.) 

“Thank you for the offer,” you said before turning to Yachi. “It was nice meeting you,” you said honestly, “and I truly am sorry for hitting you the other day.”

You turned on your heel as the brunette nodded and the blonde frantically began again with her assurances. 

You sighed discreetly as you heard them walk away, failing to avoid the eyes that you had felt on the back of your head ever since Kiyoko and Yachi stepped into view. 

Kei’s look was one of cold understanding, and it only made you look away faster. You made your way to sit at your desk and went back to packing up your things. You had nothing to say to him, not now. The sooner you could get home the better. 

(You wondered about the recognition in his eyes when he saw Kiyoko, and you would’ve wondered about what that meant, but for now you didn’t have the energy.)

“What did they want?”

( _ Not ‘Who were they?’ _ your brain stubbornly noted. Any other day, and you would’ve cared and wondered about what that meant, but for now you didn’t have the energy.)

You stayed quiet as you had earlier. 

“Fine, ” he said, turning around in his seat and helping you gather a few pens up into your pencil case while trying to catch your eye, “I’ll bite. What’s the point of all this? What did I say for the great Miss Americana to stop bugging me—”

His question was interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping the floor as you abruptly stood up. You took the most direct path in and out of the desks to get to the exit, eyes stubbornly on the ground. 

“Y/n, wait!”

For a split second, you thought (hoped) that Kei had called out to you. Then you recognized Tadashi’s voice. You stopped in the doorway and spared him a glance. His eyes were full of concern. You considered staying for him. 

You left. No one followed. 

Tadashi was Kei’s friend, after all. 

—

The sun had already set for some time before you found yourself wandering through the aisles of the convenience store you’d passed earlier, Sakanoshita Market. Your own music playing through earphones you’d dug up from the bottom of your bag, you grabbed a couple of snacks off the shelves and walked up to the register to pay. 

(Outside, you didn’t see Kei and Tadashi stop when they saw you through the glass of the store.)

Placing your food on the counter, you reached into the hoodie you’d changed into after going home and showering to pull out some loose change. You took an earbud out to ask the blonde cashier (was his hair dyed?) how much you had to pay when you heard a familiar voice.

“... milk bread?”

You jumped a little; you hadn’t heard him walk up to you. You turned your head to see Kei peering over your shoulder. (Which, much to your ire, wasn’t really hard for him to do.) You looked away before you could meet his eyes. You went back to fishing around in your pocket for your money.

“You still eat that? Even after all these years?” he asked.

You paused at that, surprised that he still remembered that you used to like having milk bread every now and then. It wasn’t like you’d have it everyday, not as if you’d rave about it. It had just been something you liked. Your finger finally closed around a few bills and coins and you pulled your hand out, staring at them.

Your lack of a response prompted him to keep talking. “Tch. I see that your taste in food is as bland and boring as ever.”

You whipped around, but your glare faded away when you failed to find any trace of a smirk on his face. Instead, his expression was soft, almost thoughtful even. It was his turn to look away before eye contact could be made. 

“Move over,” he said, pulling out his wallet.

You raised an eyebrow, but nodded anyway, stepping aside to let him hand the cashier with what seemed to be dyed blonde hair the money. Just because he was buying you food didn’t mean you weren’t still upset with him.

(It didn’t mean that you weren’t slightly touched either.)

Suddenly you wondered if the other boy had put Kei up to this.

“Where’s Tadashi?” you asked abruptly, the first words you had said to him since this morning. You went on, “Did he—”

“—He went home. I told him to go ahead,” he replied without turning around. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but he was facing you now, handing you the paper bag that held your bread. You accepted the bag slowly, searching his golden eyes for any hint of a lie. You found none.

You both left the store in silence. It was mostly filled by the noises of the mountain at night: chirping crickets and hooting owls. You didn’t know what to say, so you kept your earphones on, despite already having stopped your music.

(Looking back on the morning hours later, you felt a little embarrassed by the way you had reacted. But still, he had hurt you. Even if he hadn’t meant them, those words still dug into a wound that was a still a little too fresh.)

You walked together quietly for a few minutes under the light of the street lamps before he spoke up. “What’s with the crappy earphones? I thought that Miss Americana herself would at least own a decent pair.”

This time you really glared at him. He only rolled his eyes in response before he stopped walking. He held his headphones and phone out to you. His phone was unlocked with a playlist opened and at the ready. You stared at him, keeping your arms at your sides.

He sighed, but didn’t pull his hand away. “Just,” he said somewhat exasperatedly, “take a look.” Half-mumbling, he added, “They can’t be worse than what you were listening to anyways.”

You stared at him incredulously. “Oh, of course they’re better than what I like to listen to because you’re always better than everyone else and I’m always the least of all human beings, right, Kei?” you asked, half-shouting your frustration and tiredness to him. When he stayed quiet, you added, “I don’t want your stupid headphones or your shitty music.”

He was quiet for a few more seconds, and you grew uneasy, resisting the urge to fidget. 

Finally, he said softly, “I made it for you, you idiot.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he couldn’t believe he was telling you this. “After you left, whenever I would hear a song that reminded me of you, of all people, I’d add it to the playlist.”

You were stunned into silence. Taking the items from him, you looked down at the phone in your hands, scrolling through the songs. You recognized a lot of the ones in the beginning. They… they were all songs that you and Kei had jammed out to before you’d left— God, he’d even included that one anime intro that had been stuck in your head for weeks. There were a lot of newer ones, too, ones you didn’t recognize, and you wondered if you would understand their place among the others if you listened to them. 

(The playlist didn’t have a name.)

Your grip on his headphones and the paper bag that held the few milk bread buns that he’d paid for tightened. 

“I— Why? Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice raspy.

(There had to be a catch, because there was no way he had missed you as much as you had missed him.)

His back still to you, he sighed tiredly, but it felt forced. He turned his head and replied with a raised eyebrow, “I owe you, don’t I?” 

Despite the less-than-ideal lighting of the street lamps, you saw past his casual expression and tone of voice. He was waiting, sincerely hoping that you would accept his unsaid apology. 

Why did you care so much about past aches? You were here now, and you had at least two friends, one of whom was standing in front of you with proof that he really was your friend.

(Of course there was nothing to the warmth that spread through you at the thought that Kei had thought about you. It was purely because you were grateful for his friendship. Really.)

You sighed and placed the headphones over your ears. You were starting to get used to having them with you. “Two,” you said. 

“I didn’t know you mumbled, Miss Americana,” he snarked, but the relief was evident in his voice.

You rolled your eyes. “You owe me two, Tsukishima Kei,” you said, playing the first song on the list.

“Tch,” was the last thing you heard before the music started. You smiled to yourself as the two of you walked home together.

—

_ “Kei!” you shouted directly into the speaker. _

_ “Have you never heard of an ‘inside voice’?” he hissed, wincing. _

_ “Sorry,” you said sheepishly. You bounced up and down, going back to the purpose of the call. “Kei, you have to get your mom on the phone. She sent me a box of milk bread!” You laughed, slightly crazily. “I can’t believe that she even remembered I like them!” _

_ (You hadn’t even realized how much you’d missed the little buns until you’d received a whole package of them that morning.) _

_ “Milk bread?” he asked, his confusion evident in his voice. You tapped the landline as you waited as patiently as you could for him to remember. “Oh, you mean the buns?” he asked, “Those taste so lame - it’s just milk in them, after all. Why do you sound so happy to get them?” _

_ You sighed tiredly. “It’s in the little, simple things, Kei. Now—” _

_ “—Ah, yes, little and simple. Like you.” _

_ You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment and moving on. “Just get your mom on the phone. I’d rather talk to her anyway.” _

_ “Tch,” was all he could say, but it wasn’t a long silence before Mrs. Tsukishima greeted you on the phone. _

—

The rest of the walk to your neighborhood was as silent as it had been in the beginning, but listening to the playlist he’d put together for you, it was less lonely.

(There were so many songs. How much effort had he put into this playlist over the years?)

You glanced at Kei. He hadn’t outright apologized, but with him, this was about as close as you would get. You could accept it.

(For now.)

You both slowed down as the two of you reached the gate to your yard. He turned to you, opening his mouth to ask for his stuff with what was probably going to be yet another snarky remark. You beat him to it, placing both items in his hands with a weak smirk. 

“Thanks,” you sighed honestly, “It’s...nice to have someone.”

He sighed. “You aren’t a pathetic loner, you know.”

(Oh. He figured it out.)

“Not when I’m—,” he paused, “Not when Tadashi and I are here.”

A warmth spread through you again, and this time it came from the reassurance one gets from familiar old friendships. “I know,” you answered quietly, before pushing your gate open and stepping into your yard. 

(Speaking of figuring things out…)

“Kei,” you called over your shoulder. He had already begun walking away, but he stopped and turned to you. You hesitated for a split-second before asking your question. 

“You still play volleyball, right?”

He looked at you, and in the dark of the night, you couldn’t see his expression. 

“Yes.”

You nodded, and when you’d reached your front door and gotten out of his earshot, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

He had been honest.

—

You were lying in bed after dinner when you got the notification. Kei had shared the playlist, but he hadn’t added any snarky message.

After a moment’s deliberation, you started typing out a message to Kiyoko using the number that had been on the poster she’d given you. She quickly answered, saying that she was happy that you’d eventually decided to join the team in the end. You sent her a quick reply before settling into the covers and staring at the red paper-plate mask you kept on your nightstand.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update guys! My beta and I have been getting pretty busy lately, so updates might come a bit slower than usual. I’ll still try to update every week tho!
> 
> Speaking of my beta, she is the awesome elisium and I cant believe I haven’t credited her until now. This fic wouldn’t be half as good as it is now without her.


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